


Knitting With Only One Needle (unravelling fast, it’s true)

by Tari_Sue



Series: Camelot Land [17]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 22:33:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2042781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tari_Sue/pseuds/Tari_Sue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something strange is going on in Arthur’s office, Merlin must get to the bottom of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knitting With Only One Needle (unravelling fast, it’s true)

“Purl one, knit one, purl one, knit one… what the fuck does that mean?” A huff of frustration can be heard from the other side of the door and the clack of wood being dumped down on wood and then paper rustling.

“Right, where was I? Purl one, knit one…, no, wait, I already did that… Ok, yarn over, pass one over, knit two together, pass it back… no! No, no, no! Come back! Little buggering bastard!”

Merlin frowns at Arthur’s door. He must be hearing things, there is no way Arthur is knitting.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Maybe Merlin should go in? Maybe Arthur is in trouble? Maybe Arthur has been taken over by aliens. Aliens that knit. This requires investigation!

“One, two, three, four, five…” said the Alien.

“Um… Arthur?” He knocks tentatively, just in case the body snatchers are waiting for him.

“Fuck off!”

Well, that certainly _sounded_ like Arthur.

“Eleven, twelve, thirteen… fourteen, fifteen, sixteen…”

“Arthur? Are you ok in there?” Merlin tries again, taking his life in his hands and opening the door.

“Fuckit! Merlin, you little bastard, I told you to fuck the fuck off!” Arthur yells through the door before continuing his muttering. “Right, where was I? Sixteen… or was it seventeen? Bollocks.” 

“Sixteen, going on seventeen,” Merlin says.

“Merlin, what part of ‘fuck off’ did you not understand?”

“You’re knitting? It’s worse than I thought. You’re an alien! What have you done with Arthur?” Merlin says, pointing an accusing finger at definitelynot!Arthur.

“What are you blethering on about now?” Arthur asks, frowning down at the mess of yarn in his hands. “Fuck it! This fucking thing doesn’t fucking work!” And with that he finally reaches breaking point and throws the lot of it, needles and all, straight at Merlin’s head.

“Thank fuck for that!” Merlin says, dodging the missile with practised ease. “I was starting to get worried, I thought you’d been taken over by aliens!”

“Taken over by aliens?” Arthur says, looking at Merlin like he’s the one possessed.

“Well yeah, why else would you be knitting? But if an alien wanted my body, they’d have been more careful about nearly taking my eye out with a knitting needle.”

“Why the fuck would an alien want your body?” Arthur asks, folding his arms and glaring at Merlin.

“Why not? You do,” Merlin says, putting one hand on his hip and giving Arthur his best sexy grin.

“I don’t know what gave you that idea,” Arthur says, running a disdainful look up and down Merlin’s body.

“Hmm, something Gwaine said,” Merlin replies as he bent to pick up the knitting.

“That little shit was supposed to keep his gob shut,” Arthur says with a groan.

“You know, this is truly terrible, what the hell were you doing?” Merlin asks, examining the sorry bundle in his hand. The wool, clearly expensive fine lace-making wool, might have once been white, but is now a delicate shade of grey from having been reworked so many times. The holes are not placed in any pattern that Merlin can see, and some of them are definitely caused by dropped stitches that were busily working their way down.

“Making Morgana a scarf for her birthday, actually,” Arthur says, glowering.

“Morgana? Are we talking about the same Morgana here? Beautiful and scary, only wears designer labels that cost hundreds and thousands of pounds? And you thought she’d wear… _this_?”

“Oh – fuck _off_! It’s supposed to be relaxing.”

“Who told you that?”

“Your mum.”

“That has to be the worst ‘yo mamma’ joke ever, Arthur.”

“No, really. I was stressed, I talked to Hunith, she said knitting is a good form of relaxation. It isn’t. It’s more stressful than board meetings and my father and divorce and coming out all rolled into one.” Arthur ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up on end. Somehow, Merlin thought this might not be the time to mock him. 

“You know, I can think of a better way of relaxing than knitting,” Merlin says, trying to lace his words with innuendo.

“What’s that then? Crochet? Knitting with one needle?”

“Um, yeah, no. Why don’t you come back to mine and I’ll cook us some dinner. And then we can see where things go from there.”

“That’s a bit presumptuous, Merlin. Why would I want to ‘relax’ with you?”

“I told you, something Gwaine said. Look, you have to take what you want when you can, you’re a long time dead, Arthur, even longer if you run yourself into an early grave with only knitting to save you. Come back to mine. Shock yourself by leaving the office before 8 o’clock.”

“Merlin, I can’t just…”

“Why not?”

From the look on Arthur’s face, he can’t come up with a good excuse.

 

Let’s just leave it there and say, Arthur definitely stays the night. And most nights thereafter, unless Merlin stays at his. Merlin gets a new scarf for Christmas. It’s has a few holes and it’s a funny shape, but it’s red and it’s perfect and he loves it.

 


End file.
